


Of Templars and Qunari

by theLilyBird



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLilyBird/pseuds/theLilyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weight of the world suddenly rests on the shoulders of Qwynn Trevelyan. She never wanted this, never asked for this. She was perfectly content with her Templar before the Conclave killed him. Now she struggles with power she never wanted and feelings shouldn't have for someone she shouldn't want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> The Explicit warning is for the last chapter.

Qwynn Trevelyan had always been a lady, much like her mother. Even after being sent to the circle she maintained an air of nobility. 

 

The Ostwick Circle was a lenient place and Qwynn often got visits from her family; even her older brother who always seemed to have something important to do came by every now and again.

 

The best part of the Ostwick circle, however, was Tieran. He was a templar,  _ her _ templar. After the dissolving of the circles they were free to be with each other. It was a dream come true. She took him home to meet her parents and everything. 

 

Then the Conclave happened. Tieran convinced her to go.  _ We have to be there. We're proof mages and templars can coexist happily.  _

 

It was foolish and she knew it. Knew it the moment he suggested it, but she went along anyway. He would've gone without her otherwise and she couldn't have that.

 

Qwynn awoke to the sounds of someone muttering to themselves. She tried her voice, but her throat burned. She tried to open her eyes but they felt so heavy. She moaned in pain.

 

“Hush, da’len. Rest,” said the voice. Someone put their hand on her shoulder and she was asleep once more.

 

When she regained her consciousness it took her a moment to realize something was wrong. Her hand hurt and she was chained up.  _ Where's Tieran?  _ was all she could think. Then the door swung open and two women stepped in--well one of them  _ stormed  _ in.

 

They questioned her, told her what had happened at the Conclave. She had never cried so hard in her life. Then the dark haired woman-- _ Cassandra _ she reminded herself--took her outside to see what happened.

 

The breach was massive, burning the sky green. It made her want to disappear. Again her hand began to burn so bad it knocked her to the ground. She was connected to the breach, Cassandra explained. It was killing her.

 

Then they met with the elf and the dwarf. Solas was the man who she had woken to earlier, she recognized his voice. He didn't say anything, but she made a mental note to speak with him later.

 

They closed it-- _ she  _ closed it and then blacked out.

 

* * *

 

 

Cassandra no longer believed she was guilty. She was an agent of the Inquisition now and somehow she had gotten herself roped into meeting with Mother Giselle.

Before she left she went to speak with Solas. 

“I remember you,” she said simply when she reached his spot near the apothecary. “I woke up, briefly, and you were there.” 

He chuckled, “I did not realize you were that conscious and aware at the time. My apologies for any pain I caused.”

“You said something in elvish,” she began. “ _ Da’len _ . What does that mean?”

He shied away from her as he spoke, “Little one. It is something of a term of endearment. I am sorry, I should not have said it.”

She smirked. “It's alright hahren, I don't mind.”

Solas flushed and laughed awkwardly. “Who taught you elvish?”

“I was raised in a circle, mages come from all over,” she told him. It was a vague answer, but a true one. She had befriended a girl in the circle who taught her elvish, but she was dead now. The Conclave had killed her, just like it killed Tieran. 

“If I may ask another question, who is Tieran? You called for him in your sleep, it made me...curious,” he said thoughtfully.

She sighed, “He was a templar. You could say we were close, but that doesn't do it justice. Tieran was special, the first templar I'd met who didn't hate or fear mages. He was older, like you, and vastly wise. I--he died at the Conclave and I don't even remember what happened to him.” 

Tears poured from her eyes and Solas pulled her into him. “Hush now, da’len. I am sorry for asking. I did not mean to upset you,” he said.

She pulled away and forced a smile. “It's fine, hahren. It's good to tell someone about it,” she said as she rubbed her eyes.


	2. In the Beginning

“I told you this would go pear shaped, didn't I?” Qwynn complained on the way to Madame Vivienne’s place. “Let's go to Val Royeaux. This won't bite us in the ass or anything!” 

 

Cassandra sighed and put her head in her hands. Varric casually pretended he couldn't hear anyone.

 

“Da’len, perhaps you should relax. It is not a complete failure,” Solas said.

 

She sighed, “No. It isn't. Yet.”

 

She met with Madame Vivienne and then proceeded to visit the location Red Jenny had provided them.

 

Qwynn liked Sera, she was strange and most of the things she said didn't make much sense, but she liked her nonetheless. 

 

After their little council meeting they still hadn't decided between the mages or the templars, though Qwynn had her preference. It was frustrating not having anyone really in charge.

 

Just outside the Chantry stood a man in full armor that was definitely not Inquisition. 

 

“You waiting for someone?” she asked.

 

He had explained something about the Storm Coast and the Bull’s Chargers. She needed to go there anyway so she agreed.

 

She stood at the top of the ridge and her eyes caught on a massive Qunari swinging a hammer-like blade like a madman. Her heart skipped a beat.

 

“Da’len, should we not assist them?” Solas asked, snapping her out of her trance.

 

In answer she slid through the muck down the ridge. A tevinter rogue was coming up behind the Qunari and she froze him solid. The Qunari spun around and shattered the man.

 

The battle was over quickly with such great numbers against so few Venatori. She turned to the Qunari, who was fast approaching. 

 

“That little trick you did with the ice, that was impressive,” he said, grinning.

 

She took an over exaggerated bow, “I live to serve.”

 

They discussed having the Chargers join the Inquisition and he explained he was Ben-Hassrath. She liked his honesty.

 

Back at Haven they talked about many things of varying importance. She asked questions and he gave answers. She was shy and he was blunt. It was an all around full conversation. She thanked him when it was over.

 

* * *

 

 

Iron Bull, it turned out, was ridiculously into hot cocoa which Qwynn learned from Varric. She special ordered some from Ostwick, marshmallows included, and informed Flissa that next time he came to the tavern she should serve him some.

Qwynn sat in her little hovel, reading when a loud knock came from her door.

“Come in,” she called, not bothering to get up from her spot on the bed.

Iron Bull came trudging in with a mug in his hand. “Did Varric tell you?” he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, “I thought it would be good for someone do something nice for you. You deserve it.” She didn't look up from her book.

“Ah, thanks boss,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. It was nice to have  _ him _ flustered for once.

“You're welcome,” she said. “Was it any good?”

He stepped over to her and held out the mug, “It's not hot anymore.”

She took it from him and sipped. She smiled as she handed it back to him. “Tastes like home,” she said, almost sadly.

“Where's home, boss?” he asked, taking the mug and putting it to his lips.

“Ostwick,” she said. “It's across the Waking Sea, near Kirkwall. I left for the Conclave. Haven't been back in months.”

“Sounds like you miss it,” he said, finishing the last of the hot cocoa.

She shrugged, “It's home. Everyone misses home, at least sometimes. Don't you ever miss Par Vollen?”

Iron Bull laughed, “No. I don't.”

She laughed too. “They don't have hot cocoa,” she said.

He smiled and she decided she liked it. “They don't,” he agreed. 

They talked for a while longer. Iron Bull left late that night and Qwynn was left feeling a little lighter than she had in awhile.

 

* * *

 

 

Qwynn and Iron Bull established a sort of flirtatious relationship that suited them both. Everything was light with him and she enjoyed every minute of it.

She fade stepped past him to cut a man down with the blade of her staff. He growled. When she turned back to him he looked pissed. “Something wrong?” she asked, throwing her hip out and resting her hand on it.

“I had him,” he ground out.

She looked back at the man choking on his own blood. “Oh I'm sorry,” she said, turning back to him. “How can I make it up to you?” She made her best pouting face.

“I can think of a few things,” he said, softening.

She let out a laugh and patted him on the arm as she walked away. “Next one's yours, big guy. I promise.”

“I do not understand why you indulge him, da’len,” Solas said, falling into step with her. He had no more than two inches on her which Qwynn liked. She hated having to look up at people. Though he was rather tall for an elf.

She shrugged, “It's just a little fun, hahren. It doesn't mean anything.”

Solas looked back at Iron Bull for just a moment. “Does he see it that way, or do you?” he questioned.

“I don't know what you mean, hahren. We're friends. Just like you and I are friends,” she said, not looking at him.

He nodded, “Of course, da’len.”

Solas dropped it after that.


	3. The Confession

It came as a surprise to everyone except Solas when she decided to side with the templars. Even Vivienne seemed a little shocked.

 

Solas gave her a knowing smile as they approached Therinfal and she tried to echo the gesture, but she felt sick.

 

Fighting the red templars made her want to cry. She would be lying if she said she didn't shed a tear or two. 

 

The envy demon snapped something in her and all she felt was rage, pure and hot-blooded. The boy helped her tune her rage into a blade for slaughter. He saved her life.  _ Cole  _ saved her life _. _

 

Fighting the demon was easy, but the dam broke afterward and she collapsed, crying like a child.

 

“Come, da’len. It is over now. We can go home,” Solas said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

 

She stood to find both Varric and Iron Bull staring at her. They opened their mouths as if to speak, but Solas silenced them with a raised hand.

 

“It is none of your concern,” he told them.

 

* * *

 

Rightly so, Cassandra, Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen had all freaked out at Cole’s sudden appearance. Even Qwynn herself was startled. But the boy had saved her life and for that she owed him. He wanted to help and that was enough for her.

Cole had become a regular part of her party when she left. Cole, Iron Bull, Solas. Always. The four of them found a rhythm together that was hard to replicate with others.

They had been ambushed by Venatori and Qwynn was knocked unconscious.

Vaguely she registered someone calling to her, but she felt so heavy.

“Da’len, you need to open your eyes,” Solas called.

“Yeah, boss, what he said,” Iron Bull said.

She groaned and tried to curl away--too loud. Instead she curled up against something solid and hot. She reluctantly opened her eyes to find herself in the arms of Iron Bull. 

“There you are,” he said, smiling.

Solas tsked, “Let me see your head, da’len. You took quite a hit.”

Qwynn forced a laugh, “I've been told I'm hard headed.”

The elf smiled at her softly, “Hardly, da’len.”

“ _ Strange. Sweet.  _ **_Strange_ ** _. What does it mean? So confusing. Strange. She's strange. Don't like strange _ ,” Cole said, staring at nothing in particular. 

Iron Bull growled, “ _ Out, kid. Stay. Out. _ ” 

Qwynn didn't have the energy to consider what Cole had said.

Soft gold shimmered in Solas’s palms and he held them to her head. “Stay still,” he told her and she obeyed. When he seemed satisfied with his work he leaned back and smiled at her. “How do you feel?”

She forced herself to sit, Iron Bull’s hands ghosting at her sides to help her should she needed it. She groaned, “I'll be fine.” 

“We should set up camp, head back out in the morning,” Iron Bull said.

Solas looked at him with confusion on his face, as if that was the last thing he expected out of him. “He is right, da’len. Stay here and we will take care of it,” the elf told her.

She opened her mouth to protest but Solas held his hand out to silence her. “Hush, da’len.” She obeyed.

 

* * *

 

 

They all sat around the large fire. Solas was stitching his shirt, Iron Bull sharpening his blade, and Cole just watched the fire. Qwynn took the opportunity to read Hard in Hightown as she had promised Varric she would.

Suddenly Cole perked up like he'd heard something.

“What is it?” Solas questioned.

Cole stared deeply into the fire. “ _ Soft. Sweet. Strong. A rock, tether to this world. Kept me safe. Couldn't keep him safe. My fault. Should've been me. Should be dead. Can't remember. Want to remember. What happened to him? _ ” he said. His attention fell on her, “It wasn't your fault. You didn't know. He would've gone anyway. At least you were with him.”

The book slipped from Qwynn’s hands and fell to the ground. Tears blurred her vision and she stood up. She was frozen for a moment, crying in front of her companions.

“Da’len,” Solas said quietly. She drew her attention to him briefly before fleeing toward the woods.

This was all wrong. She was all wrong. She should be dead. Tieran should be the one helping, saving, protecting. He was always so good at it. He was good with people.  _ He  _ was good.

She wasn't the kind of person the Inquisition needed. They needed someone strong, a leader. Someone who knew what to do instantly and exactly how to do it. 

_ What if she ran until the nearest port and rode across the Waking Sea back to Ostwick? They'd be better off without her. _ Her mind flowed over with similar thoughts, each worse than the last.

When she couldn't run anymore she rested her head against a tree and let herself cry. She deserved to be sad.

So stuck in her own little world, she didn't notice someone approaching until they were almost to her.

She sniffed, “I'm sorry, hahren. I just can't do this. Tell them I'm sorry.” When she turned she found Iron Bull standing just a few feet away. He was the last person she expected to come after her.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said.

She shook her head rapidly and rubbed the tears from her eyes. “I'm just...I thought you were Solas,” she said.

He nodded and crossed his arms as he leaned against a tree. “Would you rather have him here?” he asked, his tone was calm but firm. Tieran used to speak to her like that when she was being ridiculous. 

“I can't do this,” she said, ignoring his question. “I'm not cut out for this.” 

“You have to do this, no one else can. People are dependent on you now, you can't walk away from that. Whether you think you can do this or not, you have no other choice,” he said, his voice was as unchanging as his expression. He gave nothing away.

“I don't want this,” she said weakly, holding out her marked hand. “It killed him, I know it did.”

Iron Bull was quiet for a moment, as if considering what to say next. “Killed who?” he asked, his tone wavering so slightly she almost missed it.

She shook her head and looked away, “I don't want to talk about it.”

“That's fine,” he said simply, looking up at the night sky. “You have to do this, boss. No one else can. We need you.” When his eyes fell on her once more she felt exposed, as if her soul had been laid bare before him.

She nodded, “You're right.” 

“C’mon, boss. Let's go back to camp,” he said, gesturing for her to go.

She didn't say anything back, just started walking. When they got back to camp Cole tried to apologize, but Qwynn just pulled him into her arms for a hug.

Cole went to his watch and Iron Bull to bed, leaving Qwynn and Solas alone.

“You know he went after you as soon as you left, da’len. I did not have the opportunity to follow,” Solas said as he sat beside her. 

She didn't reply. What was she supposed to say?

“Are you alright, da’len?” he asked, tilting his head to see her face better.

“Yes, hahren,” she said, smiling at him. It was forced and he knew it, but he didn't press.


	4. Lost to the Snow

It was cold, incredibly cold and not getting any warmer. The darkness nearly engulfed her, but she had to press on.  _ We need you. _

 

Her mind honed in on Iron Bull’s words. She was needed. She had to survive. Not for herself, but for them. It was hard to focus, harder still to trudge through the snow, but she forced herself.  _ We need you. _

 

It was becoming too much, she didn't know how much longer she could hold on.  _ We need you.  _

 

The sound of people drew her attention and she tried to bring herself toward them. She heard someone call out and relief flooded her. She let herself collapse into the snow.  _ We need you.  _

 

Qwynn didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but she was somewhat lucid now. She was bundled in blankets and pressed against something warm. She curled closer to it and it rumbled with gentle laughter.

 

“You okay, boss?” Iron Bull questioned.

 

“You're warm,” she stated. She sounded terrible, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

 

“And you're cold,” he echoed back.

 

She smiled and drifted off.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn't know how long she'd been out, but she was somewhere warm. When she tried to sit up, a strong hand pushed her back down with surprising gentleness. 

“You need your rest, boss. Don't try to get up,” Iron Bull said from beside her. He looked almost worried in the dim candlelight. 

“Where?” she croaked.

He patted her thigh, “Not really sure. We're a bit lost right now, boss.”

She didn't respond, couldn't. She felt so weak.

“You need your rest boss, I should leave you be,” he said, moving to stand.

Qwynn reached out and grabbed his arm, “Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone.” She was close to tears, everything hurt and her sudden movement wasn’t helping.

  
He nodded and returned to his previous position. “Sleep,” he commanded. 


	5. The Shift

Skyhold was beautiful and she loved it. They had made her Inquisitor and for once she didn't feel out of place with the Inquisition. She belonged here. They needed her.

 

Iron Bull had dressed her in some strange mercenary garb and taken her to meet some of the soldiers. It was strange, but insightful and she thanked him for it.

 

The next morning she went to see Iron Bull in the tavern. She caught his attention as soon as she walked in and he waved her over.

 

She took a chair from the table and sat across from him. “Do you think of me like that? Do you see some glorious world changing woman when you look at me?” she asked, staring at her hands.

 

“I see you as what you are. A woman who's been through too much too fast, with too much on her shoulders,” he answered. He was looking at her intently and it was making her nervous. 

 

She smiled and turned away. “Thank you, Iron Bull,” she said.

 

“No problem, boss. Did you need anything else?” he said, a slight smile on his lips. 

 

Qwynn shook her head and stood, “No, that was all.”

 

He nodded, “If that's it, I've been meaning to ask you if you'd like to have drinks with the me and the Chargers.”

 

“Of course,” she said. “When?” She came across just a little too giddy for her liking, but she couldn't take it back now.

 

“Tonight,” he said simply.

 

* * *

 

 

Qwynn and the Chargers got along pretty well, at least it seemed like it to her. She came away from the evening happily buzzed.

Most of Skyhold was already in bed it was so late. The night was clear and cool, not hot and not quite cold. She stood on the battlements, staring out at the mountains.

“Hey, boss, you want some company?” Iron Bull said from behind her, making her jump. He laughed.

She turned to face him, “Sure.”

It was quiet between them for a long time.

“You seem calmer than I've seen you in awhile,” he said. 

She smiled to herself, “Aside from the fact I'm not exactly sober, tonight was nice. The Chargers are good people. I'm happy you're all here.”

“We're happy to be here, boss,” he said. 

Again, they stood together in silence, this one more comfortable than the last. 

“You should get some sleep,” Iron Bull told her. “Busy day tomorrow.”

She nodded and moved toward the stairs. As she reached them she turned to look back at him. He was watching her in an almost predatory manner, it was unnerving. Rather than mention it she just smiled and went down the stairs.


	6. The Bull

It was another night around the fire. Cole had taken a seat beside Solas on a log, he was idly pulling at a string from his undershirt. Solas was yet again patching his clothes. Qwynn had offered more than once to special order him some new clothes, but he politely refused each time. 

 

She was reading another chapter of Hard in Hightown. 

 

Iron Bull was casually sharpening his greatsword, almost lazily so. The majority of his attention lied on her. She had noted him watching her more often than usual, it was starting to worry her.

 

“ _ Similar, not same. Connections, lines to tie them. Tangled with knots. He was different, special. He is different, special. Why does he look at me that way? The memories burn, but he burns brighter. Tieran was everything. Mine. How did I lose him? Why can't I remember? Why won't he _ \--” 

 

Solas gripped Cole’s arm, “Enough, Cole.”

 

The boy looked over at him with wide, sad eyes. “I don't understand. It's right there, I can help,” he said.

 

“Your help is not needed,” Solas told him before returning to his stitching.

 

It was warm but Qwynn was shaking. She loved Cole, she really did, but sometimes he dug too deep and left her feeling exposed. She curled in on herself, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. 

 

No one spoke for a while, Solas just hummed to himself. It was a gentle tune she didn't recognize, but it was beautiful so she let him continue.

 

Suddenly Iron Bull growled, throwing his blade down and standing. He turned and stormed off.

 

“Leave it alone, Cole,” Solas said, not looking up from his stitching.

 

Qwynn rose and followed Iron Bull. She found him staring intently at the river with his arms crossed.

 

“You want some company?” she asked him.

 

He didn't look back at her, didn't speak, didn’t even flinch.

 

“Iron Bull?” she questioned, venturing toward him slowly. When he didn't answer she placed a hand on his back.

 

He turned his head slightly to look down at her. “Sorry boss, I'd rather be alone,” he said.

 

She took a step back as if she had been hit. “Oh, alright. I'll go,” she said, turning to leave. She paused a moment before walking away. “I'm here if you need me.”

 

“I know,” he said, his voice hollow.

 

* * *

 

 

The Qunari had arranged for an alliance, but rather than be excited Qwynn felt worried and stressed. She knew this wouldn't turn out well.

She wasn't wrong. The Chargers were in danger and while her first instinct was to help them that obnoxious elf-- _ Gatt _ \--was ready to sacrifice them. Iron Bull called for retreat.

Then Gatt said it again-- _ hissrad.  _ It sent white hot rage through her and she conjured fire in her hand before storming toward the elf. She got in his face and held the flame close enough to singe the tips of his hair.

“His name is Iron Bull,” she ground out.

A hand was placed on her shoulder and she turned to find Iron Bull staring down at her. His expression said  _ enough, he's not worth it  _ and her flame winked out. She pulled away and stormed off.

Iron Bull found her in the sand, staring at the wreckage. When he approached she spoke, “I really screwed up, didn't I?”

He stood beside her and watched as she did. “No you didn't.  _ I  _ did,” he said.

She couldn't help but scoff, “This isn't going to turn out well for you, is it?”

“No, it's not,” he agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

Qwynn was fast, but Iron Bull had been expecting the assassins and he dispatched them quickly. They had cut him and she moved to heal him.

“I'm not Solas,” she said, palms glowing gold as she ran them over the wounds. She didn't look at him, instead she focused on his injuries. They took a little extra, which told her he had been poisoned. Not that he really seemed worse for wear.

“No, you're not,” he said. He gripped her wrist and kissed her palm. She stared at him with wide eyes. “You're better,” he stated, his voice a whisper.

She pulled her hand away from him and turned away. “I--I'll see you later, Iron Bull,” she stammered. He might've said something but she was already gone.

After that Qwynn went to great lengths to avoid him.  _ I just need time to think _ , she told herself.

Avoiding the tavern meant avoiding Sera and Cole, but she could live with that. She just couldn't face Iron Bull.  _ Yet _ , she tried to remind herself. She couldn't avoid him forever, as much as she was willing to try. 

However her plans were foiled when Iron Bull ambushed her on her way out of a meeting. He stood against the wall with his arms crossed as he stared out the hole in the opposite wall.

Josephine jumped at the sight of him, letting out an unladylike squeak. “Bull, you startled me,” she said. She held her hand over her heart as if to keep it from leaping from her chest. 

“I have business with the Inquisitor,” he said firmly. He didn't usually refer to her as anything other than  _ boss _ .

Leliana seemed to catch on this fact and wore a wicked grin. Quickly, she turned and ushered the other advisors out. “It's very important business,” she told them. In that moment Qwynn hated her.

She made move to speak, but he spoke first. “You've been avoiding me,” he told her.

She scoffed, “Doesn't take a Ben-Hassrath to notice that, big guy.” She rested her hand on her hip.

He shook his head and a small smile started on his face. “I'm not Ben-Hassrath anymore. I'm Tal-Vashoth. You know that,” he said.

“You're The Iron Bull, Tal-Vashoth or not. That's all I care about,” she said.

“Really? That's all?” he questioned.

She nodded, “Yeah.” She approached him slowly, preparing to move around him.“Is there anything else? Or are we done?”

He grabbed her by the waist and drove her back against the wall. She made a hard intake for air and stared at him.

“Bull?” she said hesitantly, her voice quiet.

He ignored her, cupping her jaw in his hand. He stared down at her with an almost sickeningly sweet gaze.

Then it was over, just like that he pulled away and walked toward the door. He stopped just before opening it. “Sorry, boss. It won't happen again,” he told her without looking at her. He opened the door and disappeared down the hall.

Qwynn was left against the wall, her head spinning. What was happening?


	7. And So It Began

Everything had seemingly gone back to normal after that, even Solas had noted the shift. Iron Bull and Qwynn had returned to their playful flirtations. Everything was right in the world.

 

They were in the Forbidden Oasis, they set up camp and Solas had taken Cole hunting. Solas enjoyed it, oddly enough for a mage. The pair were gone through till nightfall. Iron Bull had agreed to keep watch so Qwynn could get some rest.  _ You’re exhausted. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when food is ready, _ he promised.

 

Her rest was uneasy. Nightmares began to plague her, her mind dreamt up new and horrid scenarios for how she had lost Tieran. They were progressively getting worse and sleep was beginning to feel like a death sentence. 

 

She woke at an unknown time, sitting bolt upright and screaming for him.

 

Iron Bull burst into her tent, but she hadn’t yet set back into reality. Suddenly she snapped back, tears streaming down her face. He moved to her and wrapped her in his arms. She cried until she couldn’t anymore.

 

“Who was he?” he asked, his voice gentle as if she might fracture if he spoke too loud.

 

It took her a moment to gather herself, she slipped from his arms and tucked a strand of her raven hair behind her ear. She smiled slightly, “He was a templar.  _ My  _ templar. When the circles dissolved we were free to be together. I--he died at the Conclave. I don’t even know how he died. I don’t remember it.” The tears had begun again, the memory of Tieran was still so painful. She was still so raw.

 

“We’ll get Corphyeus. He’ll pay for all the destruction and pain he’s caused,” he promised.

 

She hadn’t really thought of Corphyeus as the reason for Tieran’s death, she only blamed herself. A slow smile spread on her lips. “If it wasn’t for Corphyeus, I never would have met you,” she said, looking up at him. She wasn’t sure why she said it, but it just felt right.

 

Rather than answer, Iron Bull turned and walked out of the tent, forcing her to follow after him. He made a beeline for the oasis and she struggled to keep up.

 

“Bull!” she called after him. “Bull!”

 

He stopped suddenly and turned to her. When she stopped in front of him he grabbed her, pulling her to him and cupping her jaw in his hand as he had that day outside the war room. She opened her mouth to protest, but he caught her words in his own. They seemed to melt into each other and the world around them faded.

 

She made move to push him away, pressing her hand against his chest, but somehow it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt right.  _ So very right.  _ He started to pull away and she chased after him. He let out a soft laugh into her mouth.

 

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered against his lips.

 

Iron Bull smiled at her, but tore himself away. “It’s too fast,” he said simply, still smiling. He looked a little goofy like that.

 

“What?” she gasped.

 

“You need more time. I’m willing to wait, boss. You’re worth it,” he said, eyeing her up and down as if savouring the image of her like this.

 

_ Tieran.  _ “Okay,” she said softly.

 

* * *

 

 

Rather than nightmares, her mind flooded with dreams of Iron Bull. Sometimes they lay in her bed, her reading and he massaging the tension from her calves. Others were far more lustful and entailed a great deal of nudity. Occasionally her mind would torture her with images of Tieran and Iron Bull at the same time, talking together, fighting together, making love to her together. She quietly hoped Solas didn’t invade her dreams without her permission.

Her mind drew connections between them in her dreams that she was unaware of in the waking world. They were so similar and yet so very different.

Iron Bull was true to his word. He waited. Occasionally, though, he would corner her in the halls of Skyhold and they’d kiss until she was panting, begging for more. She hoped he was feeling the same slow torture she was.

She often came to him with her worries and troubles and they would sit together in the tavern, him kneading the tension from her legs and her rambling about nothing of great import. She treasured those times. Though she was growing tired of his game. She was ready, she wanted him. Why couldn’t he see that?

“Bull,” she started. She sat in the tavern with her legs across his lap while he worked the knots out of her calves. She whimpered and he let out a low laugh. “Stop for just a moment. I want to say something,” she managed.

He trailed his fingers down her leg before draping them over. “Anything you want, boss,” he said.

“When are we going to get this moving?” she questioned awkwardly.

“This as in us?” he asked rhetorically. “We’re moving at the pace you need. No faster.” He made move to continue his previous ministrations, but she pushed his hands away.

“I’m ready,” she said softly, trying not to be overheard.

He let out a laugh, “You’re not. I’m taking this slow, you  _ need  _ slow. This is about what you need, boss, and right now you need exactly what you’re getting.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned, “What does that even mean?”

He went back to massaging her calves, “It means stop talking and enjoy the moment.”


	8. A New Development

Rather than nightmares, her mind flooded with dreams of Iron Bull. Sometimes they lay in her bed, her reading and he massaging the tension from her calves. Others were far more lustful and entailed a great deal of nudity. Occasionally her mind would torture her with images of Tieran and Iron Bull at the same time, talking together, fighting together, making love to her together. She quietly hoped Solas didn’t invade her dreams without her permission.

 

Her mind drew connections between them in her dreams that she was unaware of in the waking world. They were so similar and yet so very different.

 

Iron Bull was true to his word. He waited. Occasionally, though, he would corner her in the halls of Skyhold and they’d kiss until she was panting, begging for more. She hoped he was feeling the same slow torture she was.

 

She often came to him with her worries and troubles and they would sit together in the tavern, him kneading the tension from her legs and her rambling about nothing of great import. She treasured those times. Though she was growing tired of his game. She was ready, she wanted him. Why couldn’t he see that?

 

“Bull,” she started. She sat in the tavern with her legs across his lap while he worked the knots out of her calves. She whimpered and he let out a low laugh. “Stop for just a moment. I want to say something,” she managed.

 

He trailed his fingers down her leg before draping them over. “Anything you want, boss,” he said.

 

“When are we going to get this moving?” she questioned awkwardly.

 

“This as in us?” he asked rhetorically. “We’re moving at the pace you need. No faster.” He made move to continue his previous ministrations, but she pushed his hands away.

 

“I’m ready,” she said softly, trying not to be overheard.

 

He let out a laugh, “You’re not. I’m taking this slow, you  _ need  _ slow. This is about what you need, boss, and right now you need exactly what you’re getting.”

 

She rolled her eyes and groaned, “What does that even mean?”

 

He went back to massaging her calves, “It means stop talking and enjoy the moment.”

 

* * *

 

 

She turned to face him and he couldn't help noting the fullness of her breasts and the grand curve of her waist. No elven woman he'd ever seen looked like her, full figured and glorious.

“Da’len?” he questioned.

She bit her lip, “Solas.”

He fractured and his better judgment disappeared; he kissed her, hard and greedy. When he pulled away she just stared at him.

“That was wrong of me,” he said, turning away. “My apologies, da’len.”

Qwynn placed her hand on the side of his face and forced him to look at her. His cheeks burned in shame. 

“Solas,” she began. Her eyes were soft and it only made him ache for her more. Rather than speak again she kissed him, sweet and gentle.

He pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest. When they finally separated they were both in a daze.

“I--I should go,” she stammered, moving around him and out of the spring before he could protest. She gathered her clothes and disappeared, leaving him to contemplate his actions.

 

* * *

 

 

She had kissed him. Well, to be fair he kissed her first. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to kiss him. Hahren.  _ Solas.  _

The walk back to camp seemed torturously long, though her hair was still wet when she arrived. Cole sat by the fire with two rabbits dead at his side while he sharpened his daggers. He looked up at her briefly, smiling.

She smiled back and went to her tent.

Inside lay Iron Bull scantily clad with just a sheet draped over his groin. “You  _ like  _ him,” he stated.

She shook her head, “What are you talking about?” 

“Solas,  _ hahren _ ,” he said, butchering the elvish word.

Flushing, she shied away.  _ He saw. _

“It's fine, boss. I don't mind. It could be an interesting road to explore,” he said. “Come here and look at me.”

Hesitantly, she complied. She sunk to her knees and crawled over to him before staring him in the face. He smiled and slipped a hand back around to the nape of her neck before pulling her down to him for a kiss.

“Good girl,” he said when they broke apart.

She flushed, “I’m sorry.”

“I told you it’s fine, boss,” he reassured. He patted the spot beside him, a silent command.

They lay together until Solas called them to eat. It was strangely normal between the three of them, though Iron Bull couldn’t stop smiling like he had a grand secret.


	9. In the End

She had her memories back and she couldn’t stop herself from going over them over and over again.

 

Tieran had saved her. He spent his last breath protecting her. It hurt to watch him die, but she found some comfort in knowing his last words.

 

_ I love you. _

 

Qwynn sat in her room, curled up in her blankets on her bed. A large package had arrived from Ostwick in her absence and she had yet to open it. Instead she stared at it as if it held answers. She both wanted to know the contents and hated the possibilities. She didn’t want mementos from home. They would only bring her sadness.

 

Unable to keep her curiosity at bay she tore into the long package, ripping at the ties and brown paper. Inside lay a heavy wooden box with a metal plaque on the front. It read:  _ For my love, Tieran. _

 

She knew the contents instantly. A greatsword made from obsidian she had special ordered from the blacksmith in Ostwick. Tieran hated his own blade, it reminded him of the templars and he hated to be reminded of the order he was once a part of.  _ You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen. The other circles were wretched, nightmarous places, Qwynn. I don’t want to remember it. _

 

Tears poured from her eyes and she screamed at the blade. She shouted wretched things at it and pushed it way. She didn’t want to look at anymore. Tomorrow she would take it to Harrit and have it smelted, then she’d never have to look at it again.

 

A knock rang out in the suddenly quiet room. Her eyes darted to the stairs and she called out, “Who is it?”

 

Rather than answer the door opened and almost instantly she recognized Iron Bull ascending her stairs. He stopped at the sofa.

 

“You okay, boss?”

 

She forced a smile, “No.” She closed the box and slid it under her bed, wrappings and all. “Did you need something?”

 

He eyed her for a moment before speaking. “I wanted to talk. About what happened. At Adamant.”

 

“Okay,” she said, her voice cracking.

 

Iron Bull moved closer. “How’s everything up there?” he asked, tapping at her temple.

 

A genuine smile spread across her lips. “Getting better now you’re here,” she said. She pulled her knees up to her chest and gestured for him to sit. “I thought knowing what happened would make me feel better, like the knowledge would lift this weight off my shoulders and I’d be okay again. But I don’t think I’ll ever really be okay again. Not like I was, at least.”

 

“You’ll be okay again, boss. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday you’ll be okay,” he said, nudging her knee with his shoulder. “And I’ll be there with you.”

 

She rested her chin on her knees. “Thank you, Bull.”

 

“Anytime, boss. Whatever you need,” he said.

 

She laughed, “Whatever I need? That could lead to places you don’t want to go. Probably literally.”

 

“Probably,” he said with a laugh.

 

“Do you want to stay the night?” she blurted. She wasn’t sure why she said it, but she had and she couldn’t take it back now. 

 

“Whatever you need,” he said softly, moving across the bed to lay beside her. He pulled the covers up over himself and gestured for her to lay down.

 

Having someone in her bed again was strange. She curled up around him and found he was unreasonably warm. Vaguely, she was reminded of that day in the snow. She fell asleep easily.

 

* * *

 

 

Qwynn was awakened by her nightmares, she sat bolt upright in bed and screamed. She stared into the dark and flinched when a hand rested at the small of her back.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Iron Bull said, drawing lazy circles on her bare back. “You’re okay. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”

She shifted and looked down at him in the dark. She calmed at the sight of him.

A slight bulge in the sheets caught her attention and she couldn’t help but stare. “Bull?” she questioned, not looking away.

He chuckled, “I obviously wasn’t having the same dream you were.”

“Obviously,” she echoed. She bit her lip and turned back to look at his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Can I touch it?”

He was quiet for a long time, so long she began to worry she had overstepped. Again, he made idle patterns on her back. “Go ahead,” he replied, watching her.

Tentatively, she reached over and ran a line from one end to the other through the sheets. 

He put one arm under his head and used his other hand to guide hers under the covers. She gripped him and he groaned.

Slowly she slid her hand up and down his shaft, occasionally stopping to run her thumb over the tip. Soft groans slipped past his lips and he started to roll his hips in time with her ministrations.

Suddenly he gripped her forearm and her eyes darted to him. “Stop,” he said firmly.

She obeyed and put her hands in her lap.

Fluidly, he gripped her hips and pulled her up and over him so she rested on his chest. An undignified squeak escaped her and he chuckled. He ran his hand down her leg, his attention caught between her thighs. “Off,” he commanded.

She just stared at him, confused.

Without another word he pulled at her smalls, tugging them off and shifting her body as needed to do so. He smacked her ass and her eyes widened at him. “Come here,” he said, resting his hand behind her thighs and gesturing her forward.

She caught on quickly and moved so she straddled his face. “Bull,” she began.

“Don't talk. Just enjoy the moment,” he said, pulling her down.

He lapped at her greedily, like he'd never taste of her again. His tongue traced patterns around her nub and she moaned his name. It didn't take much before she was grinding down on his face, muttering obscenities to herself.

“Bull,” she whined. His name slipped past her lips with breathy gasps, over and over again until she suddenly stopped. She cried out and he could feel her inner muscles clenching around his tongue. He didn't stop until she made move to escape him and he let her.

“Bull,” she said with shaky breaths. Her ass rested on his chest while her own heaved as she tried to compose herself.

He licked his lips, “You taste good, boss.”

She managed a laugh, “Wish I could say the same.”

“Not tonight,” he said. 

“Who says we're doing this again?” she said.

He nipped at her thigh instead of answering and she laughed.

“You good?” he asked. “We can keep going if you want.” 

“Please,” she begged breathlessly.  

He gestured for her to get up and she complied, flopping over beside him. “On your knees,” he commanded. She did as she was told.

She couldn't see what he was doing, but somehow it didn't bother her. He shifted closer, so he sat on his knees just behind her. He lined himself up and sunk into her slowly.

She let out a long moan and nearly collapsed into the sheets. It had been so long she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be with someone like this. “Bull,” she managed. “Please.”

He started slow, pulling out almost completely before sinking back into her. She tried to roll her hips to meet his, to get just a little more, but his grip on her hips was too strong and her efforts were in vain.

He laughed darkly at her futile attempts. As if taking pity on her, he sped up, thrusting hard and fast. She collapsed against the sheets, becoming boneless from the pleasure. He reached around and grabbed her by her chin, pulling her up against him and leaving a bruising kiss on her lips.

Her mind swam and the room spun, she was vaguely aware of her begging. 

He chuckled into her ear, “Whatever you need, boss.” He was trying to sound calm, but his voice was ragged--was he as close as she was?

With his free hand he took one of hers and guided it between her legs, helping her draw lazy circles over her nub. He didn't stop pounding her and kept her pulled up against him.

“Bull,” she whined and squeezed his hand. Unable to form a coherent sentence, she hoped he understood what she meant. 

He pushed her hand aside in favor of his own and again he kissed her, hard and greedy. It was only a moment longer before she came undone, trembling in his arms and chanting his name against his mouth. His thrusts became erratic and with one final push he came with a roar.

It felt like an eternity before she was coherent enough to register Bull laughing beside her. She was resting face first on the mattress. “What?” she asked, her voice wispy.

He tapped her shoulder and pointed past her, toward the door.

Against her better judgment she turned her head to look. A trail of ice ran from where she lie on the bed all the way to the sofa, covering part of the cushion. She groaned, “Josie’s going to kill me.”

“I didn't know you could do lightning,” he said idly.

She turned her head to look at him, “I just don't use it often. Why?”

He held his left arm out to her, baring a hand shaped scorch mark on his flesh. She tried to sit up but her body betrayed her and she collapsed back onto the mattress. “Give me a minute, I'll fix it,” she told him.

“Who said I wanted you to get rid of it? Never gotten a battle scar during sex, kind of hot if you think about it,” he said, grinning wickedly at her.

She managed to roll herself onto her side and let her hands glow golden over the mark. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

“I didn't realize you could do that,” he told her.

“Mages are dangerous, Bull. We're power in raw form, if we don't control it it controls us,” she said not meeting his gaze. She freed his arm, good as new.

“I thought it was hot,” he said.

She shook her head and sat up, “Just wait until I burn the curtains.” She sat cross-legged with her hands in her lap.

He laughed, “I'd like to see that.” 

They were quiet for a while.

“I got a package yesterday,” she said suddenly. “Do you want to see?”

“Sure,” he said simply.

She leaned over the side of the bed and pulled the wooden box up onto the mattress. She pushed it toward him and waited.

Hesitantly, he opened it and his eyes widened at the sight of the blade inside. “That's a fine blade, boss,” he told her.

She nodded. “It was supposed to be Tieran’s. I want you to have it.  _ He  _ would want you to have it.”

“Boss, I can't. You should keep it,” he said closing it and sliding it back to her.

“If I keep it, I'm giving it to Harrit to be smelted. If you keep it, it will get used. It shouldn't go to waste, Bull. I  _ want  _ you to have it,” she told him.

He seemed flustered. “Thanks, boss. I'll take good care of it.”

“I know.”

They put away the box and they were on each other again. It was nearing sunrise when they'd finally settled back in.

He lay flat on his back and she lay atop him. “Bull,” she began.

  
“No,” he said firmly, before she could continue. “No more talking tonight. Get some rest.” He stroked her raven hair until she dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt me on tumblr thelilybird.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me on tumblr theLilyBird.tumblr.com!


End file.
